Off Sides

her head." She then breaks out into a fit of giggles that has me grinding my teeth together.
    Okay, even I admit that's a pretty low blow but I don't say anything. I keep my head down, avoiding engagement with Angeline at all costs. She's drunk and she's mean. Not a good combination and I don't have it in me to fight with her tonight. Hell, that's one of the reasons I broke up with her. It just always seemed to be a fight.
    Before Angeline can say anything, I hear the waitress reply, "I'm so sorry. It's just...I saw all of you sitting here, and well, forgive my ignorance, but I'm pretty sure Ockham's Razer says that among competing theories and all things being equal, the simplest theory is probably the correct one. I saw you had already looked at the menus and put them back down. Therefore, the simplest theory is that you are ready to order. Think of it this way... I think I saw you review the menus, therefore I am here to take your order. I mean, I know Ockham is a little before Descartes' time, but it's still a sound principle, don’t ya think?"
    There's a moment of stunned silence and my eyes snap up to the waitress. This is the most interesting thing that's happened all night...Angeline getting her spite jammed back down her throat. The rest of the table bursts out in a fit of laughter at the waitress' cheekiness and I am sure that Angeline has to be fuming. But I don't look at her because when I look at our hash-slinging philosopher, my eyes go wide and I sharply inhale. She's stunning. No, unique. No... that's not it. Uniquely stunning...that's what she is.
    She has dark blond hair that she wears up in a high ponytail. She's a natural blond. I can tell by the color of her eyebrows and I'm sure if I get her pants off, I can confirm that. The bottom four inches of her hair is dyed a pale, lavender color. She is sporting a silver ring through her left nostril and a small silver barbell through her right eyebrow. She's not wearing any makeup but she has that sort of natural beauty that should remain completely unadorned. Flawless complexion with the sexiest smattering of light freckles across her nose. Her eyes are a gorgeous hazel color that I bet get greener when she's angry or excited. Right now, they are swirling with mischief and she has full, pink lips that are smirking down at Angeline.
    I don't know what it is about this girl, but fuck, she's hot. And clearly smart as shit.
    I've never been into girls that had facial piercings or dyed hair. The type of girls my parents expect me to date wear pearls and cashmere and have a pedigree a mile long behind their names. How does mother put it? "Your father is in the public eye so we must maintain proper appearances at all times."
    My eyes rake down the waitress' body and I can get away with it because she's in a staring war with Angeline right now. She's wearing a Northeastern t-shirt and really short, shorts that showcase miles of tanned leg. She has on running shoes and sporting a little apron around her waist. Just above her right breast, which looks equally as luscious as her left, is a name tag that says, "Danny".
    Miracle of all miracles, Angeline seems to have been struck dumb. Nothing is coming out of her mouth but there are daggers flying out of her eyes.
    Tucking her pencil behind her ear, Danny puts her hand on her hip. "I tell you what...when you're ready to order, how about..." she pauses to look around the table and points right at Carter, "...you...just raise your hand when you’re ready to order and I'll come back over and help ya out. Okay?"
    Without waiting for a reply, she shoots Carter a wink and turns her back on us. I can't help it but I start laughing out loud and Angeline swings her eyes at me in fury. I ignore her, still chuckling.
    "Wait, Danny," I call out. She turns around and looks at me with surprise. I’m sure she didn’t think I would call her by her name. "We're ready to order. I think you've made an excellent philosophical argument."
    Sauntering back to the table, Danny holds my gaze and I can see her appraising me. I don't flinch or look away, and I'm returning her gaze with equal intensity.
    She walks right up to me, close enough I can smell her...and she smells like summer rain. "So, what will you have?"
    She looks even better up close and I hope my tongue isn’t hanging out. I want to tell her I will have her, with a side of her, and for dessert...her. Instead, I order the Husky Special.
    She winks at me. "Sure thing,